


Mistakes Were Made

by TheAsexualofSpades



Series: Quarantine Drabbles [90]
Category: Torchwood
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Gen, Hurt Ianto Jones, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, M/M, Protective Ianto Jones, Protective Jack Harkness, Sad Ianto Jones, Self-Esteem Issues, Whump, talking about feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-22
Updated: 2020-06-22
Packaged: 2021-03-03 20:13:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,862
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24861373
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheAsexualofSpades/pseuds/TheAsexualofSpades
Summary: Ianto messed up. He let some very dangerous people make off with some very important information. The team is mad at him. As they have a right to be. It's his fault.He has to fix it.Nothing new there.
Relationships: Ianto Jones & Team Torchwood, Ianto Jones & Toshiko Sato, Jack Harkness & Ianto Jones, Jack Harkness/Ianto Jones
Series: Quarantine Drabbles [90]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1677655
Comments: 5
Kudos: 138





	Mistakes Were Made

**Author's Note:**

> i am branching out into more fandoms!!!

Fandom: Torchwood

Prompt: “Do you trust me?”

* * *

Ianto winced, flattening himself further against the wall. His heart thudded in his chest and he clapped a hand over his mouth, trying to stifle his panting, ignoring the horrid iron tang in his mouth. Muffled voices hurried around the corner, turning this way and that. He barely let himself breathe.

They didn’t find him.

As the adrenaline started to wear off, he cursed. The car was miles away and he had no hope of making it there without being caught. The perimeter would’ve been established by now. His only hope was to make it to the outside and steal another.

His hands shook. He shoved the SD card into his boot and struggled with the wires. Once…twice…there.

Throwing his weight behind the wheel, Ianto’s heart never left his throat as he steered carefully to the main road, knowing at any second the alarm could sound and he would be caught.

None came.

There was never a better time for a new moon. The absence of any light in the sky made the blood look like water. Ianto hid his face as best he could from the few other drivers he encountered. He made a mental note to dispose of the car in the morning.

Jack would be much less angry about him stealing a car as opposed to losing the SUV along with that data.

Ianto cursed. His bloody hand almost slid off the wheel.

Stupid, _stupid_ Ianto.

He should’ve known the UNIT personnel would try and implant some sort of spyware. He should’ve known not to plug the USB device _directly_ into their server. He should’ve known to be suspicious when it started rerouting the date through extra IP addresses.

He should’ve known Jack would be furious when he found out.

He blamed Tosh at first and Ianto couldn’t. He couldn’t _move._ He knows he’s made mistakes, he knows Tosh made mistakes, and he knew Jack was just lashing out because that was Tosh’s _job,_ security and tech, and everything. But it _hurt._

He knew he was on the outs anyway, what with…everything that happened with Lisa.

Tosh didn’t deserve that.

He did.

So he was prepared for Jack’s face to turn thunderous. He was prepared for Owen to scoff. He was prepared for Gwen to murmur about _more_ security risks.

It still hurt.

Ianto parked the car and got out shakily, wincing from the onslaught of pain and the rapidly increasing number of spots in his vision. But he did well this time. He fixed it. He fixed it, he promises.

Just because he’s been weak doesn’t mean he can’t fix his mistakes.

Ianto struggled through the door, desperately trying to stay awake. All the lights were out in the Hub, and it was likely that no else was still here. That was fine. Better to take care of it by himself. The blood on his face made it difficult to see where the panel was to turn off the alarm sequence before it sounded. The last thing Ianto wanted was to be _more_ of a nuisance. But his hand was bloody too, and his fingers slid off the panel so he couldn’t enter the code. Ianto squeezed his eyes shut as he waited for the alarm to sound.

The lights clicked on. He cautiously opened the eye that wasn’t covered in blood. He looked around, trying to figure out what had happened. A flash of movement in the corner of his eye makes him look up. He pales.

Jack closes the panel outside his office and crosses his arms. He stares down at Ianto. _Why does he have to look so big?_

“Did you really think we wouldn’t notice?” His face was a neutral mask, his voice clipped and sharp. “Trackers turned off, office door locked, you had to know we’d figure it out.”

Ianto met his gaze as best he could, trying his best to bite his tongue, keep his tears for the pillow, later. Much later. He would not cry in front of Jack Harkness. He would not. He was weak enough already.

The second Ianto blinks he knows he’s doomed. The tears ran down his cheeks, dripping like razor blades. Jack offered him no mercy, standing still, waiting for an answer. Ianto gave none, except to bend down, reaching into his boot for the SD card. He placed it on the table in Jack’s view, accidentally smearing his blood over the glass. Something else for him to clean up.

Ianto raised his head, awaiting whatever sentence the judge would pass. Jack squinted at the table, fixating on the SD card. His expression softened when he saw it.

“You gotta stop being so protective of us, Ianto Jones.” His voice still carried a reproachful tone, but as his gaze returned to Ianto’s face, Ianto’s heart leaped when he didn’t look quite so angry. He lifted one shoulder half-heartedly and let it drop. _I clean up my messes as best I can._

Jack huffed out a laugh and shook his head. “Let’s get you cleaned up, sweetheart.”

Ignoring the rush in his chest at the term of affection, he started to protest. He didn’t want to make Jack clean up, this was _his_ mess, but Jack fixed him with a stern glare.

“You run off and scare me like that? You bet your ass you’re letting me clean you up.” Reluctantly, Ianto made to climb the stairs groggily, only for Jack to meet him at the base and take his elbow, guiding him downstairs.

“Where are we—“

Jack turned on the light and started the shower. He pushed Ianto gently towards the counter and smirked. “You’re letting me take care of you. Now let’s get you out of those clothes.”

_No, no, you can’t—don’t make me—_

“Just your shirt and pants,” Jack said, noticing Ianto’s eyes widening. He tapped the bathroom counter, his tone brokering no room for argument. “C’mon, hop up here.”

Ianto obeyed, walking unsteadily to the counter. He glanced at Jack, saw no hesitation, and tried to climb on the counter. His fingers slid off. His hip screamed when he tried to shift his weight. He winced and took his lip between his teeth, furrowing his brow as he _tried_ to get up onto the counter.

_Stupid,_ stupid Ianto. Can’t even get up on a counter?

Jack rolled his eyes but picked him up and set him carefully on the counter, frowning when Ianto weighed barely more than a sack of potatoes. He reached forwards to undo the first button on Ianto’s shirt, stopping just before he reached it, raising an eyebrow. Ianto didn’t really have a choice, did he? He nodded anyway.

A lot of the material clung to his skin, and it took a while to peel off. Ianto hissed in pain as the shirt rubbed against the wounds, but Jack kept working, undeterred until Ianto’s bare chest stung in the cool air. There was a large gash on his shoulder and his cheek, blood over most of his face, neck, and chest. Jack took an antiseptic wipe out of the first aid kit and began to swab his wounds.

“You’re lucky these won’t need stitches,” Jack muttered as he cleaned off Ianto’s cheek. He used a finger to tilt his head to the side. “This damn overprotectiveness will get you killed. And _you_ can die.”

Ianto didn’t know what to do. His head spun, the fear of Jack’s anger keeping him still even as his hands moved almost tenderly over his body. He barely registered Jack finishing with his face, only looking up when Jack moved onto his shoulder, shaking his head.

“I’m sorry.”

Jack looked up when he heard Ianto’s voice. Ianto had no more to offer, no other words he could say. He’d said it before, he would say it again. He stared at Jack, desperately trying to gauge his reaction. He held Ianto’s gaze for a few seconds before looking back down.

“You know I can’t stay mad at you, don’t you?”

Ianto froze, his eyes widening. Jack, of course, didn’t even pause, glancing back up to see Ianto’s stunned expression when he didn’t reply. The stony look on his face softened, _finally,_ and the corner of his mouth quirked the tiniest bit. Jack took the smallest step closer, setting aside the wipe in his hand and resting his weight on his elbows, carefully cupping Ianto’s sides. Jack waited until Ianto gave him the tiniest smile to give his uninjured cheek a gentle tap.

He set to work again, this time keeping one hand steadying himself against Ianto’s leg as his brow furrowed in concentration. This time, Ianto felt himself almost drift off under Jack’s ministrations. For the first time, he felt…safe? He blinked as Jack finished cleaning his shoulder and cleared away the first aid kit.

“Let’s go ahead and get you in the shower.”

Ianto nodded, reaching out to steady himself as he moved.

“Hang on,” Jack murmured, holding him gently in place, “let’s get these off first, okay?”

Ianto could only grip the edge of the counter to keep his balance as Jack started to take off his jeans. In any other scenario, this would be—

Ianto couldn’t stop the frightened keen that escaped his throat when Jack tried to get him to lift his hips. Jack stopped immediately but it was too late. Ianto couldn’t blame the redness of his face on the blood anymore. Again, in any other scenario, this would be…something to treasure but now, _now_ Ianto could only grip the edge of the counter and tremble. He could hear the jeering voices of some old university friends or whatever, laughing at him for being insecure or some such shite. But what made the whole thing so terribly unfunny was how _confused_ Ianto was.

Why wasn’t Jack _furious?_

He’d been weak, he’d been stupid, and yes, Jack had _said_ he couldn’t stay mad at Ianto but Ianto didn’t understand _why._

And now Jack was trying to help him and he was too weak to let him, too ashamed of Jack seeing more evidence of his weakness.

He blinked back into awareness when he felt warm hands on his sides. Jack helped him off the counter, steadying him until he could stand on his own.

“You can do the rest, can’t you?”

Ianto nodded. Jack ran a hand carefully through his hair and left, letting him shower in peace. Ianto closed his eyes and rinsed off slowly, trying to block out most of the pain. His hands moved methodically over himself, years of showering in the dark giving him the practice he needed. A knock on the door made him jump—how long had he been in there?—guiltily turning off the water and pulling back the shower curtain. Jack opened the door carefully, pulling a towel off the rack and unfolding it, turning his head away respectfully as he wrapped himself in it. He led him back to through the cold Hub to his office, settling Ianto carefully on the couch and telling him to wait. Ianto watched, eyes wide, as Jack disappeared down the ladder to his bedroom and reemerged with one of his own shirts and a pair of pants.

“Alright, come here.”

He tugged at the towel around Ianto’s shoulders, stopping when he clutched it tightly around himself. He raised an eyebrow. “There’s no need for modesty, Ianto.”

Ianto still didn’t let him.

Jack’s gaze softened and he crouched down until his head was just below Ianto’s. “No one else is here,” he reminded gently, “and there are no cameras. I turned them off. It’s just me, Ianto.”

“...promise?”

Ianto winced at how much he sounded like a frightened child but Jack simply smiled. “Promise.”

He tugged at the towel. “Don’t be embarrassed, I won’t make fun of you. You’ve got nothing to be ashamed of, trust me.” He winked and tried again, but he still clutched it like a security blanket. He stopped smiling. “What’s wrong?”

Ianto mumbled something. Jack lifted his chin. “One more time?”

“I don’t want you to see my scars.” Ianto couldn’t meet his gaze. It sounded so _stupid_ but he had to say it. “Please.”

Jack waited a moment before carefully leaning in and making eye contact with him. “Hey.” When Ianto didn’t look up, he lifted his chin. “We all have our scars, Ianto,” he murmured, “and I won’t go anywhere because of yours.”

  
“If it makes you feel better,” Jack continued when Ianto didn’t let up on the towel, “I won’t look.”

Slowly, giving him time to stop him if he wanted to, Jack removed the towel from Ianto’s shoulders, holding it open to give him a screen to change behind. Ianto took the clothes Jack dropped on the couch and hurried into them as Jack stood up and turned his head. When he was finished, Jack looked down at him and smiled.

“Better?”

Ianto nodded. Jack draped the towel over one of the coat hooks and held out his hand. Ianto took it, letting Jack guide him down the ladder, to the bed. Ianto hesitated when Jack pulled back the covers and told him to lie down.

“Jack, I—“

“Ianto,” Jack interrupted, “please? Just…just sit, first.”

Ianto obeyed, sitting down as close to the edge as possible, folding his hands in his lap. Jack opened his mouth to say something but thought better of it, kneeling down and taking Ianto’s hands, pulling them out of his lap so his forearms were bared.

“Funny thing about it,” Jack mused, looking up at Ianto, “they always assume it’s the wrists, right?”

_No._

_No, no no no—_

Jack let go of Ianto’s hands, turning his own over and holding them just above Ianto’s thighs. He raised an eyebrow in question.

Ianto could lie. He could _try._

Or he could nod.

Jack dropped his hands away as Ianto’s chin dropped to his chest. _Stupid._

Jack called his name. When he didn’t look up, he called again. Slowly, he looked up to see Jack’s expression. It was not one of disgust like he’d anticipated. Instead, it was full of sympathy.

“Oh, Ianto…” Jack reached up, carefully brushing his thumb along the curve of Ianto’s cheek. Was he crying?

He was crying. Great.

Jack didn’t stop, just took Ianto’s hand in his. Brushing Ianto’s hair carefully out of his face, he leaned forward. “I won’t ask, because I don’t need an answer, but I just want to know you’ll try and promise me something.”

Ianto nodded. Jack pulled himself up, coming closer. “Whenever this gets bad, Ianto, you come and you tell me. Or Tosh. Or anyone in here. You understand me?” Ianto flinched at his stern tone. Jack made a sympathetic noise.

“I just want you here with me, alright?” He ran his hand softly around the curve of Ianto’s face. “We’d fall apart without you.”

Ianto scoffed. Jack frowned. “I’m serious, Ianto. Look at me.”

Jack’s brow furrowed when Ianto looked. “You think we’d _actually_ get anything done without you? We’d drown in our own nonsense.”

“You still don’t know how the Archives work,” Ianto managed.

Jack beamed. “See?” Ianto couldn’t help it; he felt his mouth turning up.

“There’s that pretty smile.” Jack reached up and chucked him under the chin. “I missed it.”

“Is that why you didn’t want me to help?” Jack asked, sobering a little. When he nodded, he laughed quietly and shook his head. “Ianto, you’ve taken care of me when I was an absolute wreck. I won’t take off just because of a few scars, no matter how they got there. You’re there for us, Ianto. We’ll be there for you.”

“But it’s—“

“What,” Jack prompted when Ianto cut himself off, “it’s what?”

Ianto shook his head, pressing his lips together.

“Who do you think you’re talking to?” Jack said quietly, smiling sadly when Ianto’s head jerked up in surprise. “All my scars go away when I die.”

Ianto’s mouth moved but no sound came out. Jack lay a finger gently over his lips.

“Shh,” he murmured, “we don’t have to talk about it now. Just…you’re not alone, okay?”

He smiled ruefully. “If we’re talking about mistakes, I don’t have much ground to stand on. Though don’t you go telling everyone else.”

“I won’t,” Ianto blurts, “I won’t.”

Jack cupped his chin. “I know, Ianto, I know.”

He gently pushed Ianto’s shoulder. “Lay down. Try and sleep.”

Jack stood to turn out the light as Ianto obeyed, rolling onto the bed, near the wall, curling up to be as small as possible. He heard a faint rustling. Jack must be doing something.

He felt the bed dip and a soft tap on his shoulder. He turned over, just able to see Jack’s silhouette with the faint light from above. Jack opened his arms. “Come. Warmth. And free snuggles.”

Ianto shuffled closer. His arms closed around him, protectively cuddling him to his chest. Nuzzling the top of his head, he said: “don’t you forget; we’re as overprotective of you as you are of us.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Come yell at me on tumblr while we're all in quarantine. 
> 
> https://a-small-batch-of-dragons.tumblr.com/


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